So, the last one was called pause…

And that’s what happened.

I took a break.

A break from this, a break from the podcast, a break from some projects.

Because with the world opening back up. With me starting the dream job I never knew I wanted and didn’t know existed before this year.

I’ve had to learn how to manage time all over again.

The world we knew ended in March of 2020.

It’ll never be the same again.

And I for one want to keep getting better.

Keep doing better.

Keep learning, growing.

But also remembering.

We are exactly where we are supposed to be right now.

Where we are doesn’t have to define where we’re gonna go.

Where we’ve been doesn’t limit the ways that we can grow.

So let’s go.

And remember it’s okay to take it slow.

Rushing doesn’t always mean we get there any quicker.

Savor the moment.

Be grateful for what you have right now.

And trust that you are in the perfect position right now,

To manifest your wildest dreams.

You might not even know what they are right now.

Just keep doing what lights you up, and keep learning how to share your light with every person you meet.

And thank you for having this generous exchange with me.

Namaste, Amen, and Bless you in whichever tradition or practice you believe in.

We will be resuming our regularly scheduled programming shortly.

We are doing some self-maintenance to ensure that our system is operating optimally.

Thank you for your patience during this time.

We look forward to contributing to you soon, and thank you for all that you contribute to the world.

I’ve been laid out pretty hard this week.

Maybe partially allergies. Definitely not CoVid, I tested.

So maybe, it’s just an good old fashioned cold.

Who knows?

Better get better soon…

Hopefully tonight.

Right as rain tomorrow.

This ailing sniffly, nuisance has caused too much irritation and sorrow.

Ahh-choo!

My nose is burning, my eyes are itching, and I found the thing that works for me.

Zyrtec-D, which you can get over the counter, with an ID.

But I thought, hey, let me see if I can get it prescribed through tele-doc with my insurance.

The tele-doc said he couldn’t describe that one because the “D” is what makes it so I have to show an ID because decongestants are now controlled substances because some people make meth with those. You can learn more about that on Breaking Bad.

I’m not sure how that works with allergy medicine, but okay, what do I know? I’ve never made meth before, I’m just a brother with seasonal allergies.

Anyway, I tried the alternate medicine… I don’t think it helped at all, in fact, I think it might have messed me up…

So I’m gonna switch back to tried and true.

So I got tested this morning, for both CoVid and Strep Throat… negative for both!

Whenever I am told to think of an emotionally charged place,

The first place that pops into my mind is the lake.

As an actor, as a writer,

We are often given these types of prompts.

In fact, as I’m writing this,

I’m in a memoir writing workshop that I’m co-facilitating with a great storyteller who is mentoring me, to be a teaching artist for older adults.

The Prompt:

Think of a place that you have happy or sad memories.

So, the lake.

Lake Washington, Seattle.

On its shores, Mount Baker Beach, Seward Park, Sayer’s Pit, Rainier Beach, Leschi and many other spots all along the west side of the lake.

Heartbreaks, first loves, lifeguard training, boating, Seafair (hydroplane races),

But mostly just beautiful sights and memories.

Salmon hatch in fresh water, go out to sea,

And then return upstream to complete the cycle of life and start the process over.

I’m drawn to the lake.

Seattle is my hometown,

But the lake is the magical place for me.

It’s like it always had a deep anchoring quality to it.

It’s heartbreakingly beautiful.

It’s my special place.

Sacred.

Tranquil.

Loving.

Magical.

No place like it.

Water is always healing for me.

But no place like the lake.

I’m drawn to it.

No matter what I do when I’m visiting Seattle,

I find my way to the lake.

The lake covers a big portion of the Eastside of Seattle,

Put otherwise, Seattle is on the Westside of the lake.

The East Side is Mercer Island, Bellevue and Redmond/Kirkland.

I still don’t know the difference, Redmond/Kirkland.

The West of Seattle is The Puget Sound,

Part of the Salish Sea, and inlet of the Pacific Ocean.

The Olympic Mountains are to the West of the Sound.

But to the East, Lake Washington and the Cascade Mountain Range.

It’s the lake and the Cascades for me.

Good times.

Bad times.

Everything in between.

I once put a fish hook in my own head,

Trying to teach my brother how to cast a reel at Mount Baker beach.

Good times.

Painful at the time.

But when I realized I wasn’t gonna die.

Funny.

Time heals all things.

The lake restores me.

Seattle is not what it was,

But the lake maintains its beauty.

Heartbreaks and love go hand in hand to me.

The deep beauty.

The humor of it all.

Those memories are a part of me.

I don’t know why people don’t spend all their time at the lake.

I should go there more in my mind.

Just thinking about it centers me,

Similar to how the ocean humbles me,

It reminds me of who I am,

Not who I’m trying to be.

“You don’t have to try so hard.”

Just be.

Like the lake.

Can a brother get some representation?

Or must I build it myself, and trust that they will come?

If I knew then what I know now…

But I did know.

I just took this path because I was curious as to where it would go.

Surprise!

I didn’t see this part coming.

“It’s a hair raising event.”

I remember Kid saying that in an episode of the Kid & Play cartoon…

I forgot there was a Kid & Play cartoon until a few seconds ago.

I don’t think it was a “House Party” cartoon,

I think it was a Kid & Play cartoon. For the kids.

And the wannabe players.

I played the field at one time.

Heartbreak re-adjusted my vision for what I truly valued.

I played the “player” for a little while longer,

But it got played out.

I found myself being drawn to the family life.

Oh I bucked against it a few times,

Talked a lot of shit,

But here we are.

Building a family,

And we’re about to have a Kid of our own.

And we’ll play.

And represent what we believe in.

No more hiding.

Time to come out from the shadows.

Represent.

93 degrees today, and I was in the middle of it.

Take some time.

Ease your mind.

Everything is just fine.

Forward, no rewind.

At least not in this lifetime.

Maybe another timeline.

Another course,

Trajectory realigned.

It was all written,

Because it happened.

What will be,

We’ll see.

We’re all just threads

In the great tapestry.

It’s a mystery,

We can see the past,

But can only imagine

What will come to be.

Maybe the past is just a story.

Maybe right now has already past.

Tomorrow is an illusion.

So just trust the path.

While we here, we might as well dance.

The thing about luck is… some people would say it’s not real… that’s not what I would say, because I believe in cosmic karma, gravity, and ups and downs. Which way is up when we’re actually on a spinning ball hurtling through space?

Siri, how fast is Mother Earth traveling through space and time?

Physicist Rhett Herman responded to that question in Scientific American by asking “Compared to what?”

I’m reading for a part in a movie, that’s… dope is the best word I can describe it as.

My bike got a flat tire today.

One of my earliest memories happened at a wedding. My Uncle Dan, my Mom’s younger brother, to my Aunt Cala.

I remember either being held, or being in a baby carrier and seeing these women who looked just like my Mom saying “Hello Tres.”

Tres. Pronounced “Trey.” But spelled in the latin style T-R-E-S. I don’t even think the pronunciation is actually correct.

I don’t speak Latin… as far as I know, neither did my parents.

What I do know is that the spelling of my nickname, led to a lot of mispronunciations, Trace, Terez, Tres… caused quite a bit of frustration for me in kindergarten to the point that I decided to go by my proper name in school at the age of 6 years old. I was an MJ fan as a kid, but I was a kindred spirit of Prince my whole life. I told everybody of my name change at school the next year, people who were in kindergarten just the year before, I named myself.

The complication didn’t stop there.

Middle school, the time when I was the most self-conscious and insecure, first day of class anywhere:

Teacher: Alec Stephens ….

Me: (trying to leave it at that) Here.

Teacher: The Third?!?

Class: Giggling

Me: (Sigh…)

Fast Forward sometime in highschool.

Teacher: Alec Stephens

Me: The Third. I am Alec Stephens III, and I am here.

The greatest.

This doesn’t come from feeling better than, this comes from feeling weird. From feeling out of place for being who I was. I sunk down until I felt I couldn’t get any lower, the only choice was to stand.

I couldn’t ever play the role the world wrote for me, so I had to write my own. The only time I’ve felt free is when I fully let go of trying to fit the mold. But all of those experiences molded me.

The wheel just keeps on turning.

They say the Universe began with a Big Bang.

Maybe that’s how it starts for each and every one of us, each of us little universes.

Maybe it’s like waking up.

Drifting, as the Universe expands, we grow.

Forgetting where we came from, forgetting we were ever here?

Were we ever really here?

Are we really here right now?

Or is this all a memory?

Life is but a dream, but it feels so real while it’s happening.

Why does the journey into the unknown scare us any more than staying in the same old cycle?

We’re heading into the unknown whether we know it or not.

Decisions don’t guarantee outcomes.

Chicken or the egg, there is no right answer,

Just this questioning knowing, yin and yang.

Yes and no.

Two sides of the same coin…

That’s why us wolves howl at the moon,

Singing to the reflection of the light.

I’m a pretty open book…

Sometimes.

We all have boundaries, edges, lines that we don’t like being encroached on.

It’s good to test unknown waters, but it’s good to know where our comfort zone is so that we can safely explore the edges, and sometimes get completely out of it.

Sometimes stepping into uncharted waters helps us find our true north.

Sometimes I feel adrift, but I know that I’m being pulled by a current, and I’m aiming North.

When I get where I’m going, I’ll still be right here, because here we are.

Had dinner with some good friends last night, and Alan Watts came up.

I’ve accidentally or through the tao of my journey stumbled into stoicism and have been exploring many different ancient/present thoughts.

Somebody asked Watts in a lecture I was listening to, “doesn’t this kind of self-exploration make you go in circles?” Watts replied, “yeah, that’s what we do. Go in circles. Look at the cosmos.” I have a snake eating its own tail tattoo’d on my arm, I got that tattoo by pure chance. I was looking for some resources for my band on craigslist and saw an ad offering free tattoos to people who live in Bushwick. I answered the ad, and got to choose between three options. This one was my first choice.

It’s a dance that we’re all part of, all witnessing, all creating, and we are actually all incarnations of ourselves. Just circling around. One and multitudes, turtles all the way.

Don’t look back,

Unless you’re stepping back to go forward.

The path changes with every step.

Tread marks new and old,

Mean new roads.

They may look the same,

They may feel very familiar.

The old heads are still walking these halls,

Maybe somebody else will be writing in this very spot, at this very time, in 50 years.

What if that was me?

The old man version.

Who will I be tomorrow, who am I today?

There’s rain falling in Bushwick tonight.

I come from the rain city,

Home of The Storm,

The airspace of the Seahawks.

Seattle.

My old home.

But my home, the place that I grew up, doesn’t exist anymore.

It’s the same, but not the same,

They be acting brand new,

And I’m feeling my age,

An old youngin.’

Wonderin’ why I haven’t started to fly,

Unable to trust that my wings will take it from here.

I keep forgetting who I am,

And why I came here.

Sankofa: an African Proverb from the Akan people: “it is not taboo to go back and fetch what you forgot”.